


Moving in the right direction

by Mad_Martini



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-13 23:23:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7142402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Martini/pseuds/Mad_Martini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of one shots, all with the same kick off point - deciding between left or right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No spoilers for Zombies, Run in the first three chapters, but if my little series continues, I'll pop any spoiler alerts in the chapter title.  
> E.g. Chapter 4 [Spoiler Season 4]  
> There may be more characters in further chapters.

“Left or right, Sam?” Jody’s voice crackled through the comms.  
Sam consulted his mission outline notes, which consisted of a hastily drawn map, scribbled in pencil on a coffee stained napkin, Janine’s intel, written on a scrap of cardboard and his cameras.  
“Hurray Sam! Five’s coming in fast, with twelve zoms right be’ind!”  
The panic in Jody’s voice was evident, and not helping.  
“Left Jody, then an immediate right. That will put you and Five inside the gym, which is clear of zoms.”  
Watching on the security cameras, Sam saw the two runners race down the corridor following his instructions, then slamming the gym door shut behind them. The zombies, trapped behind the door, milled around, bumping into the door, the walls and each other.  
“Okay, the exit should be on your four o’clock, Jody, almost directly behind Five, and it looks…” he flicked his eyes to the external cameras, “yep, looks clear.”  
The two runners jogged across the gymnasium floor towards the exit.  
“So, did you get everything, guys?” Sam asked, already switching his attention to the radar and camera feeds that would cover Runner Four and Runner Five’s path back to Abel.  
“Sure did, Sam,” Jody replied, her voice distorted by static. “Plenty of school supplies and some books for the kids. Five even found a few boxes of chalk.”  
“Great job, runners! That’s really, really great!” Sam said to the runners on the bank of screens, letting a smile cross his face. He watched as they ran out of the gymnasium and across the carpark towards the overgrown oval.  
“Now, once you get to that fence at the end of the oval, you’ll see the gravel path. Head right and follow it while it is currently free of zoms, and we should see you back here in about half an hour.”  
“Copy that, Sam.”  
On the screen, the fuzzy images of his runners paused, while they resettled their backpacks before starting the run back to Abel.  
It was a good day!


	2. Sam and Janine

“Left or right, Janine?”  
“Mr Yao, I do not have time for this!”  
Colonel Janine De Luca stared at her Chief Radio Operator, who was currently sitting at the comms desk with two fists outstretched towards her.  
“Come on, it will literally take two seconds, Janine!”  
“Mr Yao. The minister is coming to inspect the township and observe our runners in the field. I do not…” She looked critically at Sam, who still had his hands out, patiently waiting for her to choose one, and sighed. “Fine. Left hand.”  
Sam opened his hand to reveal a wrapped Werther's Original.  
“For…for me?”  
“Yeah, well, you know. Thought you might like something to take your mind off the Minister arriving.”  
“Why Sam, that’s…that’s very thoughtful of you.” She pocketed the treat, trying to ignore the warm happy feeling that Sam’s present had provided. One of his cherished Werther's. “Thank you.”  
“And speaking of the minister, that’s her helicopter touching down.” Sam turned to his bank of screens and the microphone. “Runners Four and Five are still on their rostered break, so I’ll call in…” he flipped through the current week’s runner roster,”…15 and 21 for this run.”  
“Excellent. I’ll give the Minster a quick overview of the township then bring her in here to observe the mission. If you happened to accidentally clean up this…this thing you call a desk while I’m gone, that would not be terrible,” Janine said with a smile, as she headed for the door. “And Sam?”  
“Yeah?”  
She touched her pocket, where the lolly was hidden away. “Really, thank you.”


	3. Medical issues

“The left or right one, babe?”  
“The one on the left please, sweetheart.”  
Maxine Myers hadn’t taken her eyes off her patient. As one of the three doctors for Abel Township, Max was usually the last person a runner wanted to see in a professional manner. Currently, Runner Five was sitting on the examination table, staring at the wall of the medical tent, trying to ignore the doctors.  
“Five, I know you don’t want to hear this, but this will be painful, and we can’t give you any pain relief.”  
Five’s eye roll was the perfect response.  
Max knew that painful was an understatement, but they had been rationing pain medication until a reliable source could be found. And minor injuries like this just didn’t cut it.  
During the latest mission, there had been some unforeseen events involving a zombie horde, a landmine and a car wreck. The upshot was that the zombie horde chasing Runners 5 and 17 had been distracted by the explosion, but Runner Five now had a new piercing, courtesy of a piece of shrapnel. More specifically, there was part of a door handle sticking out of Five’s left biceps.  
Doctor Paula Cohen, handed the needle nosed pliers to Maxi, having sterilised them and the suture kit in Jack Daniels.  
_Because 9 out of 10 doctors recommend Jack Daniels as the sterilising fluid of choice in the Apocalypse,_ she laughed to herself.  
While Maxine examined the injury, Paula caught Five’s line of sight.  
“It’s going to be okay, Five. I just need you to lie down for me and take some nice deep breaths.”  
Five looked resigned to the fact that the procedure was going to happen. Although pale and sweating, the runner was putting on a brave face, but that, in Paula’s opinion, was Runner Five.  
Understated, modest, brave, and dependable.  
“Okay Paula, I’m ready,” Maxine said, readying the pliers and adjusting her head lamp.  
“Nice deep breaths now Five.” Paula worked to keep Five focussed, while holding a pressure dressing next to the injury site. “Three, two, one.”  
For the quietest person in Abel, it turned out that Runner Five could make quite a bit of noise after all.


	4. Chapter 4 - Hidden Talents [SPOILER ALERT FOR SEASON FOUR]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Potential Season 4 SPOILER (minor, but still)  
> If you haven't started/ finished Season Four, skip this chapter.

“The left or right one first?”  
She was still amused by the question. “And where exactly did a demolitions expert learn foot massage, Steven?”  
He smiled at her. “It’s a great big world out there, love. And I’ve seen quite a lot of it. Besides, I like learning new things.”  
“I see,” she said, arching an eyebrow at him.

It was quite a scene. Tiny Kefilwe Lobatse was perched on the edge of the cot, while the six foot three ex-soldier sat cross legged on the floor in front of her. He had taken her left foot gently in his hands and started kneading the arch of her foot, working through a range of pressure points underneath her foot and around her toes.  
She had to admit, not only did he know what he was doing, but he was actually very good at it. 

She watched as his hair fell across his forehead and into his eyes, but his attention was focussed on her feet, as if he was memorising them by feel. Calloused hands loosened knots that she hadn’t realised existed; she took a deep breath and sighed. This was the first real chance she’d had, since coming to Abel, to relax. Or at least relax, by her standards. Even though she was taking the time to enjoy the massage, her eyes roamed the room that Steve Sissay currently called home. 

She didn’t really know that much about him, aside from the few comments he’d made about joining the Army as a young man, and what she’d gleaned about his natural curiosity. She suspected that, much like herself, he was a bit of an iceberg. Not in the sense that he was cold or detached, in fact he seemed completely at ease with her, but that there was a lot more to the man than he showed on the surface.

Like knowing massage. 

It had been an offhand comment from her that started it. Steven had asked if she would like to go for a walk around the township before dinner. But after fourteen hours on her feet doing rounds in the medical buildings, she was exhausted, and just wanted to put her feet up. Having told him as much, he had suggested the foot massage.  
Such a contrast to his outward appearance: tall, lean and confident. 

_Dare I add charming?_ She wondered.

But Kefliwe had never been one for judgement based on appearance. Her experiences at medical school had seen her strive to overcome the judgements of others who had demeaned her, waiting for her to fail, based on her sex, skin colour or whatever deemed her different from her detractors. Her experiences working in conjunction with the UN, as part of a Red Cross medical team, had further toughened her and confirmed for her that it was people’s actions that counted, not what they looked or sounded like.

Leaning back on the cot, she took in the things Steven had done to personalise the room. Small things really, as a soldier he would have been discouraged from carrying more than the essentials with him. But there were some drawings, which she wondered if he’d drawn himself, and a few photographs.

“How’s that feeling, love?” Steven asked, as he finished working on her foot.

“You have very talented hands, Steven.” She grinned at him, and was rewarded with a bright smile in return. 

He began to work on her other foot.

Her eyes drifted back to the photographs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just something that took root in my brain and refused to leave until I'd written it.


	5. Don't say it!

“The path on the left, or the path on the right, Five?” Owen asked.  
Runner Five shrugged, not knowing which path would be free of zoms. But they had to make a choice, and quickly.  
It had all started off so well.  
A quick trade run to New Canton, where Five and Owen would swap ‘technical supplies’ from Abel with ‘educational supplies’ from New Canton. Five had seen through Sam’s mission nomenclature immediately, but had still laughed when Owen had pulled the two DVDs and a packet of AA batteries out of the bag.  
“Two DVDs and some batteries? Mate, what kind of “technical supply” trade is this?” Owen had asked Sam, before they left the comms hut.  
“The kind of trade that is going to get us a copy of the last Harry Potter book!” Sam insisted. “I’ve been talking to the guys at New Canton and arranging this deal for three weeks, and we are going to get that book to finish our collection!”  
“Righto, Sam, take it easy, mate.”  
Securing the last Harry Potter had taken on almost mythical status in Abel over the last six months. Every supply run list had the book on it, every time a runner checked out a house, they scanned the bookshelves for the elusive prize. Sam had even gone as far as suggesting finding out if J K Rowling had turned grey, and if so, whether she was one of those S-Type zoms, just in case. Janine had crushed that plan very quickly.  
But now, it looked like the quest was finally coming to a conclusion.  
“So what the hell are we giving New Canton in return, Sam?”  
“Our spare copies of Evil Dead and Shaun of the Dead,” the comms operator replied. “Although these days I’m not sure if I’d class them as ‘classic cult movies’ or ‘documentaries’.”

The run to New Canton had been peaceful. A couple of random zoms near the bridge and a small gathering by the lake, but nothing that Runner Five and Runner Six couldn’t avoid, thanks to their diligent radio operator. The trade had been completed – Bernard was over the moon with the new acquisitions.  
"You should have a nice easy run back to Abel," Bernard had told them, as he placed the precious cargo reverentially into Owen's backpack.  
Both runners shared a pained look at Bernard's use of the word _easy._  
It wasn't that they were superstitious, but there were some things you just didn't say to an Abel Runner.

Heading out of New Canton, the runners trotted along the river path, as they moved into the forest.  
“Okay guys,” Sam’s voice crackled in their ears, “the path forks up ahead, and there’s a pack of zoms coming from the...”  
BZISSHZT!  
The comms fizzled out.  
“Sam? Sam can you hear me, mate?” Owen asked.  
The crackle of static and empty airwaves was the only response.  
Runner Five and Runner Six had lost comms with Abel, and had zombies approaching from an unknown direction.

Which brought them to...

“So what do you reckon? The path on the left, or the path on the right, Five?”  
Runner Five shrugged, not knowing which path would be free of zoms. But they had to make a choice, and quickly.  
Grabbing Owen by the upper arm, Five moved towards the left fork of the path, purely on instinct.  
“Do you know where you’re going, Five?” Owen asked in a furious whisper. The last thing he wanted was to be set upon by a pack for the undead. And he couldn’t help but wonder exactly how many zoms Sam thought constituted a ‘pack’.  
Five replied with the universal sign language for “Shut up!” – a finger to the lips and a stern look.

Taking all care to move silently, the two runners edged their way along the dirt path. All they could hear was the wind moving through the leaves of the forest and their own too loud sounding footsteps.  
Five stole a glance towards Owen. His face was pale, and he was clutching the straps of his backpack so tight, his knuckled had turned white. He was clearly terrified, but still holding it together.  
“I’ve never had the comms drop out like that before,” he whispered to Five, as the path took them over the bridge. “Do you think everything is okay back at Abel? I mean what if...” He never vocalised the scenario going through his mind, perhaps worried that putting it into words would make it happen.  
In all the time that Five had been a runner for Abel, there had been countless missions where things had gone wrong at the drop of a hat. And each time, it had taught Five not to worry about the ‘what ifs’ so much as the ‘right nows’. Right now they had to evade the group of zoms Sam had warned them about and head back to Abel. If there was anything wrong at the township, they would cross that bridge when they came to it.

The path had widened and the two runners had better scope of vision as the forest thinned. They couldn’t see any movement in the trees ahead of them, or along the ground.  
Five felt Owen’s hand tapping for attention, and turned. Runner Six was staring wide eyed at something behind Five. 

_GRRLGBRLROWLGRRR..._

The zoms had crept up behind them!

Adrenaline surged as both runners started to sprint away from the horde, but it was only when Five noticed that Owen wasn’t keeping pace, that Five realised Owen wasn’t running.  
Turning, Five saw Runner Six trying to escape. But the lead zom had its decaying hand wrapped on the strap of Owen’s backpack. 

_The backpack containing the last known copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows._

“FIIIIIVVVE!” Owen was desperate. Wide eyed and terrified, he was pulling with everything he had, but the zombie held onto the backpack, trying to claw its way closer to the tasty human.  
Five turned back and started sprinting towards Owen, while pulling a tomahawk from their belt.

THWACK!

The zom’s head split open as Owen fell forwards, the strap ripping off his backpack. Picking himself up off the forest floor, Owen ran past Five, who was ducking under the swipe of a zom and picking something up off the ground.  
_The tomahawk_ , Owen figured. _No point leaving such a good weapon behind!_  
The rest of the horde smelled the second runner and began shambling towards the runners.

“Oh crap! Come on Five! Run!”

Bursting out of the forest and into the open fields that formed the defensive perimeter around Abel, Runners Five and Six ran to outpace the horde. With no fast zoms, the pace wasn’t too hectic, but there were fences to climb over, ditches to avoid and long grass potentially hiding crawlers.

“...maybe this...Five, Six, can you hear me now?”  
“Sam!” Owen replied, vaulting another ditch. “Never been happier,” a breath, “to hear you!”  
“Oh thank god!” Sam’s voice crackled and squelched.  
The runners could tell that whatever Sam had done to restore the comms, it was dodgy and probably temporary.  
“What the hell? Is every zombie in England chasing you?”  
“No Sam,” Owen replied sarcastically, “They’re all literary fans wanting our bloody book!”  
“Okay guys, I’ve got runners en route...” hiss of static,“...noise makers to distract the ...” another hiss of static,“...you can slow down and jog the last kilometre...” This hiss of static was loud and painful, “...all clear between you and Abel. I repeat, it’s all clear between you and Abel.”  
“Thanks Sam.” Owen replied.  
He patted Five on the shoulder. “Thanks for coming back for me Five. I thought I was done like a dinner!”  
Five smiled in reply.  
As Runners Four and Twenty Three appeared ahead of them, Five’s comms crackled again.  
“So does that mean you’ve actually got the book, Owen?”  
“Sure did, Sam!” Owen replied, reaching for his backpack.  
His face fell when he felt his pack. When the strap had ripped, it had torn a hole in the side of the bag.  
“Oh no!”  
The book was gone!  
The sinking feeling in his stomach made him feel like he’d been punched in the guts, until he heard Five laughing.  
“I don’t see what’s so bloody funny about this! We just about got torn limb from limb for noth...”  
Whatever he was going to say was lost, when he saw what Five was holding up.  
A book.  
_The book._  
“How? But it fell? But, Five...You really are amazing Runner Five!”  
Five just passed the book to Owen with a smile.

"There's a bit of zom brain on the dust jacket. Might as well get...rid...of..."  
The _Deathly Hallows_ dust jacket fell to the ground, as the two runners stared at the book they had risked their lives for.  
_Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince_  
"Bloody New Canton!"


	6. When all you can do is run

“Left or right?” you whisper to yourself, as you stagger towards the hallway junction.  
The growl of zombies from the left has your body moving to the right before your brain has even decided. It doesn’t matter where you are, there are always zombies.

Normally you’d have Sam screaming at you right now, but his voice is strangely silent, You lift a hand to your head and can’t feel the reassuring metal and plastic of your headset. But you can feel something warm and liquid. Pulling your hand away, you see your fingers are red with blood.

Your blood.

You don’t remember hitting your head, but then you don’t remember losing your headset either. Must have happened at the same time.  
Janine is going to kill you for losing your headset. Well, she will if the zombies don’t manage it first!

 _Stop thinking, dammit! You’re bleeding and there are zoms behind you._  
You wish it was Sam telling you that, but it’s just your own voice inside your head.  
_Pay attention and for god sakes run!_

Following such sage advice, you pick up the pace, trying to find your way out of this maze of corridors. It’s like you’ve becomes trapped inside a school or an office building. Certainly the architectural style is “Death by Office”. Oddly enough, that works for both pre and post zombie apocalypse.  
You still have no idea how people managed to work in offices before the world went grey.

_Focus! Zoms! Scary bitey undead monsters!_

You keep running down the corridor towards what looks like an exit. There’s even one of those green and white EXIT signs lit up over the doorway.  
Despite the fact that you’re in the middle of the zombie apocalypse and there’s no electricity. Hmmm…

The growl of the ever present zombies pulls your thoughts back to the present situation. You step up the pace again and run towards the exit.

You hit the door running at full tilt and suddenly find yourself falling over the edge of a cliff.

Falling towards the rocks below.

Falling towards your death.

Falling…

Your eyes open and your breath is caught in your throat, which is great because if it had gone any further, you’d be screaming.  
Gasping for air, you sit up in your bed, breathing, feeling sweat rolling down your face, your neck. Glancing around, none of the other runners you share the barracks with are awake. They are all lost in their own dreams, or nightmares, like you.

You lay back down, getting your breathing back under control.  
Just a dream. Just a normal part of this new, fucked up world.


End file.
